A Poem

The following written prose is a gift from activist Joemae Santos,

The pride of the nation

The time you had privileges and had food was when others were suffering
The pain of the hot sun attacks our skin
as our flesh burns
along as gasoline burns
and the black smoke lands on her face and
it’s the word itim that enters others mouths
cause it’s best to be white
be embarrassed of
your skin
her skin
his skin
our skin
because it’s ugly
not nice to look at so
go back to working in the streets with a mile to walk
for decent cup of water
that’ll be empty before you get where your going
because it’s the heat like a net caressing our population
increasing the sweat that nurtures our land
ang lupa hiniram, NO “this land is your land” stuff cause
ever since Rizal’s time we’ve been tough
with nothing but the clothes on our backs
we worked till the rich were happy and satisfied with our pain
we are strong we fight for survival and die for necessities this is the
Filipino the ones who fought with pride
against others cause a fight was what they provoked
the joking matter of death spoke spoke
spoke like a speech that will never be forgotten
don’t ever forget the blood that drizzled
as the cold hearted hearts of our enemies beated
alongside the cries for help that pinoys and pinays
asked for back then
back then in history we were discovered
but lapu lapu sparked our defensive attitude
towards the many islands that can say
Salamat Ninoy at Cory for you made change that was greatly needed
we need to be given our needs
our lives at stakes with rain water at our knees
the houses that tremble and stand on nothing but a stick
with the protection from our trope from the scary scary man
that looks at me up and down and the
gossip that’s always being murmured from ear to ear and
the disgusted look people give you if you are poor rich
as to who
who huh will be accepted
but it’s the bone breaking
pride
thinkin’
sweatin’
tearin’
up person that walks through this land
like life is as easy as the gravel is like fire
while their feet sizzle like coal underneath Jollibee’s grill
but the child waits outside for maybe
just maybe someone will throw their half eaten burger
it’s starvation the lack of money is to much to
bear cause the cardboard bed beside the mango tree is painful
insects are easily feeding on me but I won’t
repeat that WON’T die off these islands without
a meaning cause it’s the meaning of pride
we have learned to carry and pass on to others because as a
Pinay my history will live
thru the children who beg
thru the jeepney that runs
thru the teen that works graveyard
thru the palenke that smells
thru the elders that protest
thru the land we have lived on and
No we will never give up on ourselves because
they are
we are
I are

Filipinos are worth dying for